snow mare

8

Book ladies: part one, /part two/

She gave it all, you gave her shit
She coulda done, just anything
Or anyone, cause she’s a goddess
You never got this
You put her down, you liked her hopeless
To walk around, feeling unnoticed
You shoulda crowned her, cause she’s a goddess
You never got this

(Don’t) Touch Me Like That: A Rowaelin Short Story

So here’s the first winner of the survey many of you guys took. ***Warning: Does contain mature content*** in case you weren’t aware. I spent 3 MOTHER FRICKING DAYS ON THIS. I gave up sleep, put aside my homework, everything. So I hope you all like it!

Please like and reblog, and feel free to tell me what you thought! I really did spend a lot of time on this so it means more than you could imagine having people appreciate it and tell me how much they enjoyed it. Alright, this post is long enough as it is, ENJOY!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Aelin again read over the letter she had received just yesterday. She had read it so many times that she had now memorized the words. And yet, it felt as if she still couldn’t comprehend them.

“Aelin?” Aedion asked quietly.

She didn’t turn to him as she said, “Rowan and I will set out for Fenharrow tonight. I want you and Lysandra to stay here and watch over the apartment. We don’t want Lorcan to pay an unexpected visit.” It was silent for a few moments, and Aelin could feel Aedion’s annoyance at not being chosen to accompany her rolling off him in waves, but even he was wise enough to not push Aelin at this time.

As much as she didn’t want to, she knew choosing Rowan to go with her was the wiser choice. She would much rather pick Aedion.

When the Queen of Terrasen finally turned to her cousin, he read all that and more in her eyes.

Aedion nodded, eyes somber as he murmured, “As you will it.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Aelin stuffed an extra cloak, a few pairs of pants, shirts, boots, and sweaters to keep out the winter chill into her pack before clasping it. She didn’t need to pack too much as she and Rowan shouldn’t be gone long and she certainly did not want the extra weight on her as they traveled.

Just as she was finishing strapping on her knives, blades, and other deadly weapons, she felt Rowan’s presence behind her. But she didn’t pause, instead choosing to grab a few more daggers and sheath them at her thighs.

“Are you ready to go?” His voice was cold, stilted.

Finally turning to him, Aelin couldn’t look him in the eyes as she said, “Let’s go.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

They had been travelling for three days, and Aelin had still not spoken a word to him. She hadn’t really looked at him, spoken to him, or acknowledged his existence ever since—Ever since that day. When he had pushed her away.

“Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”

Rowan shook his head as if to rid his mind of all the thoughts racing about in there. He hadn’t been able to stop replaying those moments before he had rejected her. How her eyes had seemed to glow with want, the warmth of her hand as she had caressed his tattoo…

And then the moments after. Hurt had flashed, unabashed and unexpected, on her face. He had hurt her. And then she had covered it up, made it seem like it was nothing but…He knew she was angry. He knew he had emotionally wounded her.

He knew all this…And yet he had yet to apologize for it.

“We’ll set camp here for the night.” Her voice cut through his thoughts. Rowan looked up, coming to the sudden realization that the sky was dark and now showcased thousands of stars winking down at them.

Rowan watched as Aelin hopped off her horse in one graceful, fluid motion before tying up the snow white mare as close to the peaceful river as she could. She stroked the horse as it drank deeply, and only left once she was certain the gentle beast was well taken care of.

The two of them silently set up their tents, and Aelin started a fire with no more than half a thought before she spoke to him again while she was rummaging through her pack. “I’m going to go freshen up in the river.”

And then she was gone again.

Rowan stared after her, only averting his gaze once he realized he could still see her as she began stripping off her clothes. He had not torn his gaze away fast enough to miss the maddening sight of the curve of her breasts as she had rid herself of her shirt.

His blood thrummed in his veins, forcing himself to close his eyes and take a few steadying breaths.

Gods, if he didn’t do something productive now, he’d end up joining her in that river.

And then lose his balls by her hand by doing so.

So the Fae Prince decided he’d go hunting so that they’d be able to eat something other than days old cheese and molding apples.

With his sheath strapped to his back and knives on every visible and invisible inch on him, Rowan set out.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Insufferable bastard.

Rutting pain in my ass.

Aelin mentally swore at Rowan, cursing his very name to the pits.

It’s been days—days—since they last spoke to each other. And Rowan was so rutting proud, he wouldn’t even acknowledge her.

Granted, she was also paying as much attention to him as she would a spot of dirt on the street, but she couldn’t bring herself to so much as look at him while the aching in her chest was a constant companion.

No matter how many times she told herself that if he wasn’t interested in her like that, that it was his prerogative, she couldn’t help that feeling of rejection. Besides, Aelin thought as she rinsed her hair for the third time, how can I expect him to move on after losing his mate for gods’ sake? Aelin sighed. Of course she couldn’t expect him to move on so soon—if ever—from Lyria’s death. And it was selfish of her to do so.

A wave of guilt came crashing over her.

She’d apologize to him tonight. Make sure he knew that she understood, that she felt awful for blaming him for her misguided feelings. It was just that, for the first time since Sam, Aelin thought she had finally found someone who accepted her, who saw all her flaws and the monster she was, and cared for her despite it.

Perhaps Rowan did care for her, just not in the way she wished he did.

Aelin finished bathing and heaved herself out of the river.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Once Aelin had finished dressing, she came to the camp to find that Rowan was ladling stew into a few bowls. She sniffed the air, swearing she could smell—Was that fresh bread?

She stopped at the edge of the camp, leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed over her chest. “Well,” she said, being sure to sound mildly amused, “Who would have thought Rowan Whitethorn, famous Fae Prince Warrior, Death on Swift Wings, was also a chef?”

For a moment, Aelin was afraid he wasn’t going to respond to her. She was afraid that he was going to completely ignore her. And she knew that if he did that, if he were to truly not want anything to do with her anymore, then she’d endure it and put on a brave face, but—

But Rowan merely chuckled once and said, “Well are you good for anything other than running that mouth of yours?”

If things were like they used to be, she might have made some slightly inappropriate retort, but they were just now beginning to test the waters, and she did not want to screw up redeeming herself, so she only smiled slightly and came to sit across from him.

He passed her a bowl of the mouth-watering stew, still steaming, along with a piece of the fresh bread he had somehow gotten his hands on, and the two ate in comfortable silence for a while.

Finally, when her emotions were eating her up inside and she could no longer repress the words, she blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Rowan stopped mid-bite. “For what?” He still wouldn’t look her in her eyes.

Aelin swallowed, but forced herself to continue. “For pushing your boundaries,” she said. “For crossing a line I didn’t mean to. And then blaming you for it. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to—” she swallowed again. “I’m sorry.”

Rowan didn’t respond. He didn’t turn towards her, he didn’t speak, rutting hells—Aelin wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Rowan turned towards her. Aelin was embarrassed at the way her pulse thrummed when he finally, finally, met her gaze. She was sure he could hear the pounding of her heart, the shallowness of her breathing.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he breathed. “I should have…handled it better. It just took me off guard.”

She didn’t know when it had started, but Aelin suddenly realized that tears were pooling in her eyes. Rowan, too, seemed to notice, and at the sight of them, he only opened his arms, beckoning her, and murmured, “Come here.”

She dropped her empty bowl with shaking hands before making her way over to him. Aelin had planned on sitting beside him, but Rowan scooped her up in his arms and set her down on his lap. So close, she could distinctly smell the pine and snow scent that was him.

Aelin rested her head on his shoulder, and Rowan pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed again. “I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

A few heartbeats passed, and Rowan’s only response was, “I missed you, Fireheart.”

She refused to allow him to see how much those words affected her, so she laughed and retorted, “You mean you miss all of our comedic and playful banter?”

“Banter? Is that what you call it? I’d say arguing was a better fit.”

“And I’d say that me always being right and you being wrong whilst refusing to acknowledge it is an even better fit.”

And so they sat that way for a good remainder of the night, until Rowan complained that his legs were beginning to fall asleep due to Aelin’s heaviness—she had smacked him, playfully of course—and they had bid each other good night before retreating to their tents.

Aelin slept better that night than she had nights previous, but her tent still seemed to be too cold without her Fae Prince at her side

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Two more days of riding, and though things were still a bit tense between the two of them, Aelin and Rowan were talking to each other again. It was at the end of the second day that they had stumbled upon a small village. The village was welcoming and inviting, with red brick buildings and local shops, friendly people.

And most importantly, an inn.

“We can lodge here for the night,” Aelin said. She didn’t mind travelling, but she was tired of sleeping on the hard ground and bathing in creeks and rivers and eating nothing but cheese, apples, bread, and whatever game she and Rowan had hunted.The thought of sleeping in a bed was so appealing, she had to restrain herself from making her horse go faster just to reach the inn.

The inn was cozy and warm, with a tavern off to the right and teeming with people. Boisterous laughter and the scent of pumpkin and cinnamon greeted them upon arriving, and Rowan and Aelin quickly scanned the space before Rowan said, “I’m going to go check things out. You see about getting us a room to stay in for the night.” Before Aelin could protest, he was off.

Aelin strutted to the innkeeper’s desk, ringing the little bell there and feeling eyes on her coming from every which way. Her hand strayed to a knife hidden beneath her cloak, but she made sure that the silver gleamed menacingly and in plain view. If anyone dared to be a bit bold and try to steal from her, they were going to find themselves missing a few fingers—Or perhaps a whole rutting hand.

The innkeeper, a small, plump woman with dark hair and light eyes bustled out, wiping her hands on her skirt before cheerfully greeting Aelin.

“I’d like a room for the night please,” Aelin said. “And, with two beds,” she added as an afterthought. As much as she and Rowan were beginning to mend their relationship, she guessed he’d prefer to have a bed of his own.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” the innkeeper breathed, and Aelin steeled herself for the words she was sure to say next. “All of our two bed rooms are full. But, there is one room available. Mind you, it does only have one bed, but—”

Seeing that the woman was getting quite flustered, and perhaps a bit frightened at the sight of Aelin’s hand on her knife, Aelin politely interrupted, “It’s fine. We’ll take whatever you can offer us.” The woman nodded.

Upon paying the kind innkeeper and receiving the key from her, Aelin walked back to the tavern in search of Rowan.

Good gods, there were so many people! Aelin had to push her way through, scouting for the Fae Prince. It took her all of five minutes before she found him in the more dimly lit part of the tavern, his back to her.

A pretty, curly-haired woman was pressed against the wall, big brown eyes just gobbling up the sight of the muscular warrior. Aelin could not hear what they were saying over the roaring in her ears, but she watched on in silent horror as Rowan lowered his lips to her ear, eyes straying to her considerable-sized breasts. The woman’s eyes seemed to darken with lust, and her hand went to his chest, feeling the hard, corded muscle underneath his tunic.

Rowan flashed her a lazy smile, one so few people were graced to see, and when the woman nodded upon him whispering something else in her ear, Aelin could take no more of it.

Just as she was preparing to leave the tavern, her gaze met with that of the beautiful woman. She nodded in Aelin’s direction, and Rowan looked over his shoulder, making direct eye contact with her.

Aelin wasn’t sure what would happen next, didn’t know if Rowan would simply dismiss her or go after her, but she didn’t care to stick around and find out.

Faster than a bat out of hell, she rushed out of the tavern, up the stairs, and found the room they were to be staying in for the remainder of the night.

The room was small, but cozy. There was a small wardrobe tucked into the farthest right corner, a door that led to the bathing chambers, a small fireplace, and a table. A considerable sized bed with fresh linen took up much of the space, if you sat on it and looked out, you could view the beautiful violet snow-capped mountains that seemed to go on for an eternity.

Ten minutes passed, and Aelin could do nothing but stare out that window. That is, until the door opened, and pine and snow overtook the room. The air was instantly stale, and the mixture of awkwardness and anger was a tangible thing.

“There’s only one bed,” he said.

Aelin scoffed and faced him. He looked for all the world like he had done absolutely nothing wrong and had no idea why she was behaving like a lunatic. “I told them we needed two beds, you insufferable bastard. This is the only room they had available.” Swiftly, she began ridding herself of her weapons, her freezing cloak. “If you’ve got a problem with it, you’re welcome to sleep on the floor. Or even better, you can change into your hawk form and find a nice nest for lodging.”

Rowan was still stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he said, “That actually doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.”

Aelin shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Then by all means, go do it. Apparently, I’m such an detestable pain in your ass that you’d rather go warm some other harlot’s bed than share one with me for a night.”

And there it was.

Almost immediately, Aelin regretted the words, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

Rowan’s brows furrowed and he took a step closer. “Aelin—” She held up a hand, ceasing whatever words were about to come out of his mouth.

“It’s none of my business, Rowan, whom you decide to have relations with, I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Rowan was silent as she finished stripping off her weapons, setting them on the small, wooden bedside table before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Rowan was an idiot.

A ginormous, gods-damned rutting idiot.

He should have known, should have thought about how the sight of him flirting with another woman, no matter what the initiative, would have affected Aelin. Especially, especially considering what he’d told her just weeks before.

“Rowan,” she had breathed and slid her fingers down the side of his tattooed cheek and—

Impossibly fast, Rowan grabbed one wrist and then the other, yanking them away from his face and snarling softly.

He dropped her hands as if they were on fire, stepping away.

“Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”

He had known, as soon as he had said the words, that he had hurt her in some foolish, unspeakable way.

And now…He could only imagine how it looked. That he would rather some random woman’s hands run all over him, rather share her bed, than be with Aelin for just one night.

The line between them had become so blurred once he had come to join her in Adarlan. It  was completely different between them in Wendlyn. They had fought and cried and laughed together. She had slept in his bed every night after she had nearly burnt herself out. And Rowan had not realized just how lonely he was until he would wake up in the middle of the night, hands searching for a girl who was not there. A girl who was half way across the continent, and had taken pieces of him with her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

As Aelin bathed, she could not stop replaying all that she had seen just moments previous. The way Rowan leaned into that woman, how he seemed to want—crave—her touch. The way his eyes had freely roamed over her body, how her eyes had seemed to darken in response.

“Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”

Aelin came to the sudden, crippling realization that perhaps—Perhaps those words were not a general statement. Maybe they had been intended for her only. Was it not possible that just because Rowan did not want her hands roaming over his body, he would not mind the hands of another on him? That he did not feel for her in that way?

She finished bathing, wrapping herself in a towel before exiting the bathroom to find that there was food on the bed. Still warm, though not scorching hot so it had to have been sitting there for a little bit. Rowan, however, was absent. Fine, she thought, but Aelin could not deny that little twinge of hurt and disgust that was taking place in her heart.

She sat, still wrapped in her towel and began eating the meal without tasting it at all. She was so wrapped in her thoughts that everything around her seemed like a type of dream. Blurred and hazy around the edges with only one thing astoundingly clear.

It was moments later that Rowan came back, hands full with two cups filled with something that smelled distinctly like chocolate and a small tray that had to hold something sweet, as she could smell the cinnamon and pumpkin she had scented upon first arriving at the inn.

He set the goodies on the bed. “I went back down to get some hot chocolate and pumpkin spice tarts. The cook says they’re the best in all of Erilea.”

If this was his attempt at an apology, he was doing a shit job at it.

But she could never resist sweets, especially chocolate, so Aelin took a cup and a tart and began enjoying them without so much as a thank you. Rowan sat down on the bed, keeping a healthy distance before he delved into his meal. She took a sip of the hot chocolate—Gods, it was heavenly. And the tart was even better.

Somewhere in the middle of enjoying her third tart and second cup of hot chocolate, Rowan retreated to the bathing chambers. He was gone for no more than ten minutes, and Aelin had just slipped on a long-sleeved red button-down shirt when he emerged, dressed in nothing but a pair of paints slung low on his hips and his hair dripping wet, but tied back in a bun atop his head.

Aelin climbed into bed, forcing her eyes away from his half-naked form, and blew out the bedside candle with a murmured, “Goodnight, Rowan.”

She could tell that he was just standing there in the middle of the bedroom, staring down at her. But it was moments before his deep voice disturbed the silence of the room as he said, “I was gathering information from her.” He needn’t specify who. “She was a common city whore from the brothel down the street, Aelin. Nothing more.”

Lies. There was absolutely nothing ‘common’ about that woman. From her full, sinful lips and deep brown skin, to the full swell of her breasts and petite build.

“It’s none of my business, Rowan. It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does,” he said. “It does matter, because it obviously upset you. And I must say that I am sorry Aelin, for having hurt you. It was never my intention.”

It was silent for a few moments, the only sounds being the high-pitched whistling of the wind and snow swirling about outside, people preparing for bed, candles being blown out, before the entire inn seemed to grow completely silent.

“Good night, Rowan,” she said again. A few heartbeats passed before Aelin felt the bed dip on the opposite side, Rowan coming to join her.

Gods damn her, she couldn’t seem to even consider sleep when he was right there, when he was so close and yet so far away. So Aelin lay with her back to him, staring at the wall while hoping and praying for sleep to come and take her away.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Please tell me what you’re thinking.” Aelin knew it had to be well past ten, but it did not surprise her when Rowan’s voice disturbed the stillness in the room.

“Only if you return the favor.” He seemed to hesitate, but eventually agreed. “But you first,” she added quickly. Rowan groaned, and Aelin couldn’t help a small smile as he grumbled, “Fine.”

She heard him take a deep breath, as if preparing himself for a fight, noticed that he subtly cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m thinking that Lysandra and Aedion are probably showing great strength in restraining themselves from tearing each other’s throats out. I’m thinking that the small innkeeper should back away from the door and go mind her own business.” At this, Aelin indeed heard a quiet gasp and then shuffling as someone hurried down the stairs. Her smile grew. “I’m thinking that not talking to you for that amount of time was starting to drive me mad, and I missed you like hell. I’m thinking that I’m one of the biggest fools that ever lived from having hurt you. And I would sooner cut off my own arm than make that mistake again.”

Aelin wasn’t sure she was breathing. Of all the things she had expected him to say, that certainly wasn’t it. So she turned around to face him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity…And found none.

She had so many things she longed to tell him. Things and feelings she had kept on a tight leash. A leash, Aelin realized, that had been loosening ever since she had seen him in that alley.

So she, too, took a deep breath, knowing that once she said the words she had been wanting to say for so long now, there’d be no undoing it. “I’m thinking that you’re an idiot, Rowan Whitethorn,” she replied. “And I’m an even bigger idiot for having fallen in love with you.” His eyes seemed to darken in the sliver of moonlight coming through the window. Aelin breathed, “Now you have to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking,” his voice had taken on a dangerous quality. So low and guttural as he said, “That I want to kiss you, Aelin Galathynius. I want to touch you, I want to find out how your lips would feel on mine. How your hands would feel in my hair, roaming over my body, touching me.” His gaze went to her lips. He growled. “I want to take you on this bed. I’m thinking that I want to fuck you over that table, and on the walls, and in the tub. Over and over again until that sneaky little innkeeper is forced to kick us out due to noise complaints. Because I can guarantee, Fireheart, that you’ll be moaning—screaming my name at the top of your lungs. And you won’t be able to help it.”

Rutting hell’s.

Rutting hell’s. 

Aelin did not know when she and Rowan had inched closer, as if by some invisible force, but she realized that he was now close enough that she could reach out and touch him if she wished. Realized that their breaths mingled.

His words had her nearly gasping for breath, sent her heart galloping, her pulse roaring through her veins and pooling at her core. She could scent his want, his lust-filled eyes finally meeting hers again.

“Are you all talk, Rowan? Or can your actions actually back up your words?” He grinned, canines gleaming wickedly.

“Turn around,” he quietly instructed. She obeyed, wondering just what in all the gods’ names he could possibly do that—

Her thoughts cut off abruptly as his lips met her neck. His breath fanned over where her shoulder and neck met, kissing where her pulse thrummed. Aelin’s body stiffened.

His hands soon joined his lips, one grazing her bare thigh, the other slowly unbuttoning her shirt. Aelin’s eyes screwed shut. Just a whisper of his thumb caressing the inside of her thighs had her grinding against him, silently begging for more.

In one swift movement, he had her on her back. Rowan hovered over her, their bodies so close that his warmth seeped into her. His lips kissed, followed by a brief, sharp pain that was his canines biting her, claiming her, before his tongue—gods damn her his tongue—caressing the spot he had just bit her.

And he continued this slow, pleasuring torture all the way down her throat, until his mouth hovered over her breasts, peaked despite the lack of chill in the room. 

And then he took her right breast into his mouth, licking and biting as his hand massaged her other breast. Aelin moaned, grasping the sheets as waves of pleasure tore through her.

His name was a breathy whisper on her lips. Just when she thought she would find release, he stopped, instead continuing his torturous assault of leaving a trail like purple-pink flowers blooming upon her pale skin.

Rowan eased himself off the bed, kneeling before it, before her. His hands wrapped around Aelin’s ankles, pulling her towards him. Evidence of where he touched were left on the sensitive skin inside her thighs. He was going to drive her to the brink of insanity with those gods damned teeth of his. Aelin didn’t think he could pleasure her any more than what he already was.

But then his mouth hovered over what was between her thighs, and she felt his breath on her. And she could have sworn he moaned before his fingers began to pleasure her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Feeling her wetness for him, scenting her wanton desires nearly undid him. Her golden hair sprawled out on the pillows, her hands grasping the sheets, eyes fluttering and chest heaving as he pleasured her. The way she tended to bite down on her lower lip to contain the moans she so desperately wanted to release. She was so beautiful. 

Aelin was aware of the fact, and yet still held insecurities. Rowan had noticed how her eyes had flashed with hurt and despair at the sight of him flirting with that other woman. He had noticed how her eyes roamed over the whore’s body, immediately comparing it to her own and wondering if he perhaps preferred those type of women.

He planned on eliminating every once of self-doubt she had.

Aelin’s hips bucked off the bed, craving more of his touch but he used his other hand to pin her to the bed. “None of that,” he crooned.

“You little—” Her sentence was cut off as she gasped at one of Rowan’s fingers entering her. “Shit,” she breathed as he slowly began to pump his finger inside her, his mouth caressing her thighs. He added a finger, feeling her clench around him as he began to move faster, faster. Her chest was heaving, and his name sounded like that of a gods when she finally found her release, her hips wanting to buck off the bed but being stayed by his hand. 

She was barely able to come down from the last waves of pleasure before his tongue darted out, tasting her. He had imagined how she would taste, but his imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. 

One of her hands went to his hair, holding him to her as she writhed and moaned. His hands and mouth took turns, tasting her, pleasuring her. 

“Aelin,” he breathed against her. And at that, she lost it once more. Her back arched off the bed, toes curling as she was taken again.

Her eyes opened, meeting his as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked her pleasure off them. Aelin’s body shuddered, riding out the last waves.

But when Rowan rose, making as if to join her on the bed, she held up a finger, stopping him as she raised herself to her knees. 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Of all the things that had come out of Rowan’s mouth, wit matched with a sharp tongue, she had never imagined that he could have her nearly begging for release with nothing more than his teeth, hands, and tongue.

She held up a finger, stopping him. And he did so with a mixture of amusement and lust shining in his eyes. Her hands reached toward his naked chest, keeping his gaze every step of the way so that he knew, so that he could stop her at any moment should he wish.

“Get on with it, Fireheart.”

That was all the encouragement she needed before was on him. Pleasuring him as he did her. Her lips and breath on his neck, peppering kisses along his torso and leaving her mark on him. 

Rowan’s eyes had fluttered closed, nostrils flaring as she moved farther south, until her mouth was right above the waistband of his pants. She popped the button free—

So fast she hadn’t anticipated it, Rowan’s hands lashed out; One gripped both her hands, ceasing her advance, and the other lightly gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

For a moment she was afraid that she had gone too far. That kissing and marking his skin was fine, but him exposing himself in that way was off -limits. 

But then he lowered his lips to hers, and it was the answer to a thousand-year old riddle. It was the beginning and end of the universe and her body heated. It was hot—too hot—

An icy breeze swept through the room, blowing out the fireplace and kissing her heated cheeks. A hand slipped around her waist, and Rowan set her on the bed with a gentleness that made her heart stutter.

Aelin wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him down towards her, causing him to be flush against her body. She could feel the hard length of him through his pants and suddenly wanted him insider her now.

Again her hands went to the waistband of his pants, and this time, when she slowly began to peel them off him, he only growled that she go faster and stop teasing him. 

His pants joined her shirt on the floor, and Aelin’s mouth went dry at the sight of him–Fully naked before her. He was beautiful; every bit the Fae warrior underneath his clothes as she had imagined he’d be.

Their eyes met, Rowan lowering his head so that their brows met. He smelled of pine and snow and sweat, but her scent was there as well. Crackling embers and lavender wrapped around each other like the notes to a sweet melody.

Rowan nudged at her entrance, and Aelin bit her lip to stop the moan that had been about to pass from her lips.

“Get on with it, you bastard.” Rowan only chuckled, a sound she felt reverberate in her core before he entered her. Her nails raked down his bag, raising angry red lines as he pushed in, and in. And in.

He stilled, allowing her to adjust to his considerable length. 

Aelin closed her eyes, focusing on his breath coming out in hot, short spurts on her neck, his scent, the hard muscles of his back, his hands on her thighs, on how he seemed to fill every inch of her.

She breathed his name, and that was all it took before he slid out, then pushed back in. Slowly, at first. He worshiped her body, kissing her deeply as he moved inside her.

But Aelin didn’t want slow. 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Her hips lifted to meet his and he stilled, snarling softly in her ear. “Aelin,” he said, almost as a reprimand. When he didn’t move, she lifted her hips again. “Open your eyes,” he softly encouraged. She complied, and when he pulled out before slamming into her, her mouth formed a perfect O, a strangled gasp leaving from her lips as he slammed into her again. And again. And again.

His mouth met hers, swallowing her sounds of pleasure as he lifted her in his arms, their bodies still connected. Her back hit the wall, her arms snaking around his neck, his gripping her thighs as fucked her, hard and fast against the wall as he’d promised.

“Rowan,” she said his name between moans and sighs.

“You’re mine,” he growled against her throat. “You are mine, Aelin Galathynius. And I’m yours. To whatever end.”

He pounded into her, so rough that the few pictures decorating the walls fell of, so viciously she swore the window threatened to shatter.

She could feel her release coming for her again, but she needed to say it. Wanted to say it. “I’m yours, Rowan Whitethorn,” she breathed. “And you are mine. To whatever end.”

“I love you,” he said, and those whispered words were her undoing. She shattered completely around him, screaming his name and not caring who heard. He continued to pound into her as torrents of pleasure tore through her, until he, too found his release and her name off his lips sounded like a man worshiping a goddess.

And when she could finally find her voice, she reciprocating the words she had held in her heart for all this time.

~.~.~~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Rowan and Aelin got little sleep that night. 

He had fucked her, hard and rough against the wall again, bent her over the table and had his name leaving her lips the entire time. 

Then she had taken over, pleasuring him with her mouth, with her hands, with her teeth, and the sight of him coming undone at her doing was one she was sure would haunt her in her dreams for all time.

But then Rowan had lain her on the bed and made slow, sweet love to her. Hands roaming as he kissed her tenderly, the entire time telling her how he loved her.

But they had both grown so exhausted that finally, at nearly three in the morning, the two feel asleep, wrapped in each others arms. 

~End~

Riminicomix 2017 #2

Avrei voluto fare un post più lungo ieri sul Riminicomix, ma ero stanca e non vedevo l’ora di andare a letto. Tuttavia sentivo la necessità di scrivere qualcosa sulla fantastica giornata che vi ho trascorso sabato e così ho buttatto giù le prime due cretinate che mi sono passate per la mente. Adesso che sono leggermente più lucida (non so perchè, ma ho dormito tutt’oggi e sono ancora rintronata, chiedo venia), posso scrivere il degno post che volevo fare ieri… O almeno provarci.

Come avevo già detto, sono andata via con un gruppo completamente nuovo. Era la prima volta che mi aggregavo a loro e mi sono trovata molto bene con queste ragazze. Mi sono sentita parte della squadra, anche se era il mio primo comics con loro. L’idea iniziale era passare la notte di sabato fuori, visto che il meglio del Riminicomix è alla sera. Quest’anno non c’erano spettacoli particolari, però dormire là è un’ottima tattica. All’inizio pensavamo di prenotare un hotel, ma eravamo un gruppetto numeroso (alla fine eravamo in sette) e abbiamo iniziato la ricerca della camera troppo tardi. Fortunatamente i nonni di una delle ragazze hanno un camper e ce lo hanno prestato. Avendo risolto il problema del pernottamento, non abbiamo pensato ad altro per l’organizzazione, se non l’orario di partenza un paio di giorni prima.

Per evitare il traffico, abbiamo deciso di partire intorno alle 8 di mattina e di non prendere l’autostrada ma la statale/tangenziale (noi le chiamiamo “le strade basse”) per essere a Rimini intorno all’ora di pranzo. E’ così che sabato mattina ci troviamo al centro commerciale davanti al Mc Donald’s per fare colazione insieme e poi partire.

I miei sono a Riccione per il weekend, sono a casa da sola da un paio di giorni e non ho nessuno che mi possa accompagnare al Mc. Prendo quindi la mia macchina e la lascio nel parcheggio. Papà si è messo d’accordo con suo fratello affinchè venga a prendere Lory (la mia auto si chiama Loretta, soprannominata affettuosamente Lory) e riportarla a casa. Pensando che i miei due zaini siano d’intralcio nel ristorante e visto che il camper non è ancora arrivato, decido di lasciare i bagagli in auto. Prendo quindi la colazione insieme alle altre e mangiamo nel dehors intanto che aspettiamo l’autista e il mezzo. Mi accorgo dell’arrivo di mio zio e che sta provando ad aprire la macchina con le chiavi di scorta che gli avevo lasciato il giorno prima, ma senza successo. Vado da lui, apro Lory e gli lascio le mie chiavi. Poi torno a mangiare. In quel momento ho avuto il rivelazione: GLI ZAINI! Avevo dimenticato di tirare giù gli zaini! Preoccupata di passare tutta la vacanza senza vestiti di ricambio o altro, lo chiamo subito. Per fortuna non è lontano e torna subito indietro. Scarico il bagaglio e questa volta torna indietro senza altri problemi. La giornata comincia bene, già.

Il viaggio è andato bene, non ci sono stati problemi. È durato tre ore, ma tra sonnellini e risate varie, il tempo è volato. Ogni tanto si ballava sul camper in rotatoria, ma sembrava di essere sulle montagne russe, quindi mi sono divertita un botto.

Abbiamo lasciato il veicolo in un parcheggio per camper custodito, non molto distante dalla stazione dei treni di Rimini. Oltre al posteggio, abbiamo pagato anche la corrente, ma al momento di allacciare i cavi, abbiamo scoperto che il nostro era rimasto a casa della proprietaria. Due di noi vanno perciò alla reception per avere il rimborso della corrente, visto che ne faremo a meno. Incredibilmente però le emissarie riescono a farci prestare un cavo dall’impiegato, quindi cambiamo piazzola per avvicinarci al generatore e allacciamo la corrente. Adesso possiamo prepararci per il comics, intanto che aspettiamo che altre due ragazze ci raggiungano (erano venute in macchina con delle altre loro amiche). Sapevo che alcune di loro stavano preparando un cosplay, ma non immaginavo di essere l’unica a non averlo! Io non faccio cosplay, non ho ancora trovato il personaggio giusto per me. Il massimo del mio travestimento è t-shirt di Casa Stark, jeans e scarpe da ginnastica, alias “la malata di serie tv che vuole farti sapere che l’inverno sta arrivando”, come mi hanno definita. Anche per questa fiera ho con me il necessario per il mio cosplay, ma fa troppo caldo per stare in maniche corte, oltretutto se la maglietta è nera! Demoralizzata, decido di restare in canotta. Però tutte si stanno vestendo e io mi sento fuori posto tra loro, così ho un lampo di genio: la cosplayer in vacanza! Visto che sono praticamente vestita da spiaggia, se abbino un cartello “chiuso per ferie” magari ci faccio una simpatica figura e non sembro la solita pigrona. Cerco allora nella mia borsa qualcosa su cui scrivere e trovo la prenotazione dell’hotel per il Riminicomix dell’anno scorso. È un segno del destino: devo fare la cosplayer in vacanza! Prendo una penna e ci scrivo sopra “cosplayer chiuso per ferie”. Adesso che sono arrivate tutte e tutte sono vestite, andiamo al Piazzale Fellini.

Anche se era il primo pomeriggio, ci sono già molti cosplayer in giro. Alcuni veramente fatti bene, altri meno, altri sono i classici abituè del Rimini, qualche bella sorpresa, tipo il cane vestito da Goku o il T-Rex cavaliere jedi. Nei padiglioni non si gira per la troppa gente, ma i cosplayer in riva al mare non mancano. Verso l’ora di cena torniamo al camper per cambiarci, preparare i letti per la notte e poi uscire nuovamente per la cena. Non torniamo indietro fino a tardi. Dormiamo striminzite: nei letti matrimoniali stiamo in tre invece che due. Lo spazio vitale è poco, ma per una notte resistiamo.

La mattina dopo ci svegliamo presto e ci prepariamo per andare in spiaggia. Prima però facciamo colazione e salutiamo una del gruppo, che deve prendere il treno per andare da sua nonna. Dopo esserci abbrustolite sotto il sole e aver pranzato con una piadina, è giunto il momento di tornare a casa.

Anche il viaggio di ritorno è andato liscio come l’olio. Al parcheggio del Mc ci salutiamo disfatte per il weekend ma felici per i due bei giorni passati insieme e ci promettiamo di fare una rimpatriata una di queste sere per ricordare il Riminicomix e organizzarci il Modena Nerd. Intanto ci mandiamo le foto che ci siamo fatte in questi giorni e piangiamo al solo pensarci.

The gift of Aphrodite: A Greek tragedy chapter 3

BE WARNED SMUT BELOW!!!

The first glimpses of light were showing from the horizon announcing the arrival of helios onto the earth. Caroline tried not to be distracted by it’s beauty as she sat down on her knees her hands in her lap and her head held down praying to the remains of the sacrifice she had made to the goddess Hera earlier that night. After she had gone back to her chambers she had laid tossing and turning not being able to fall asleep. The events of the very long day still fresh in her mind. So much had happened that it was hard to relax. Eventually she had decided she should visit the temple of Hera by the edge of the city limits to pray for guidance.She had changed from her nightgown into a seafoam colored dress that was one from back home. Simple and easy to travel in. With her cloak in hand she walked down to the stables to find Epona. The beautiful snow white mare was a wedding gift from Talaemenes and one of the only things she was thankful for.

 Aside from Pheidon Epona had been her only friend in the palace. She was loyal and kindhearted. Caroline could spend hours and hours sitting next to her stable petting the creature, brushing her manes and entrusting her with her deepest and darkest secrets. Once saddled she had rode to the temple of Hera carrying incense and spices as offerings to the goddess. And now as the last of the offerings were burning away and the temple filled with the aroma’s of it she pleaded with the queen godess. She prayed for strength to endure her husband and her marriage, hoping that due to the experience of the goddess’ own marriage she would take pity on her. She prayed for a sign towards the direction she should take. And lastly she prayed to remove those thoughts and emotions she felt towards a certain young prince.

 As soon the fire went out there was a rustling of the wind, which was strange in summer. A few leaves waving towards the path that led to the river. The sun had just come up and Caroline saw it to be a sign from the goddess herself. She smirked slightly before climbing back up her horse. She had time for a little getaway still, after all it was a sign of Hera herself right? She convinced herself. With a kick from both feet she geared the hoarse egging it forward down the path to the river. She could nearly smell the water and her body started to relax. Epona knew the way perfectly having traveled down it these past weeks at least twice a week. She knew how to avoid the guards at the city gates and to be quiet in the forest not to attract poachers. It was still chilly outside as the sun was still rising. But it had promised to be a warm day today as it had been the last days. It was about an hour riding to the river so by the time she got there it might be warm enough for swimming. She was happy that aside from yesterday’s encounter the open spot at the waterfall and the cave was never visited by others. It was her own special little place. However when she arrived it was not as deserted as she had hoped it to be. 

Keep reading

Warm Fires and Cold Mjod

An amused sort of snort was made watching Huldra roll about in the fresh snow. The poor mare had not had her tack taken off in nearly a week, using the powder to clean her hairless skin, legs kicking about. Of course it couldn’t quite drown out the songs being song. Spacewolves. It was an odd sort of singing too, thick and droning, coming from deep within the throat.

For the most part, she had sneaked away behind them, in the dark. Half to let Huldra play and stretch out and half so she could remove her mask and clean her own face. Slashing snow into her sweat beaded face felt good. Painfully refreshing actually. One wolf actually belched so loudly the woman jumped, startling and snorting. “Mm…”

@thespacewolves